


Nobody Likes a Rusty Scythe

by somebodyslight



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Gen, Innuendo, Scythe Maintenance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-23
Updated: 2013-05-23
Packaged: 2017-12-12 18:13:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/814511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somebodyslight/pseuds/somebodyslight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>500 words on scythe maintenance, prompted by jolly-dolly (cathouse_mary). I tried.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nobody Likes a Rusty Scythe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cathouse_mary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathouse_mary/gifts).



Ronald sinks back into the breakroom sofa, flexing his knuckles and stretching his arms above his head until he feels a dull pop in his spine. He’s glad to be done with that mess of a collection. It wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle, of course, especially with Director Spears there, but with so many dying in such rapid succession, and all of them so young, today is certainly not one he’d care to repeat. He is looking forward to the group date with Secretarial tonight, however, and all that stands between him and leaving is a quick clean-up.

He sits up properly and looks over at the reel mower next to him. Damn, it looks nice. The ladies in General Affairs and Secretarial are all about the new high-powered scythes and who could blame them? His scythe is bigger than the other Collections officers’, too - that shouldn’t go unmentioned, of course. Sure, Senior Slingby’s technique is impressive, but… no, he won’t go there. It’s time for scythe maintenance, not comparisons.

Pulling the scythe toward him, he flips it up into his lap so he can see the inner workings better. He hadn’t had much time to admire it before going out into the field, but the three months that passed between the processing of his application and the actual acquisition of his new scythe were worthwhile. Up until now, he’d been using a traditional sickle, which was fine and all, but it didn’t quite suit him.

On the plus side, though, now that he thinks about it, it was easy to care for. He runs a finger along the side of one of the curved reel blades, streaking the half-congealed blood sprayed across its surface. He wonders if he’s made a horrible mistake. How the hell was this going to work?

After fishing it from his pocket, Ronald opens the kit and sets everything out on the table: _The Definitive Deathscythe Operation and Maintenance Manual: Mower Models, Second Edition_ ; a small bottle of Bond’s Best Blade Cleanser and Disinfectant; another of Ackerman’s Deathscythe Oil; and two cotton flannel squares. Well, he’s certainly not touching the manual if it can be helped, but this shouldn’t be too different from cleaning a stationary blade, right?

He uncaps the Bond’s Best and folds a cloth over its mouth, overturning it for a few seconds, then setting it aside. Rotating the reel, he cleans the blades one at a time, then the brush bar, the axle, the cutter bar, the housing, redampening the flannel periodically and carefully scrubbing away every stubborn spot of blood. When he feels he’s been thorough enough, he reseals the cleaner and picks up the fresh square and Ackerman’s. Each surface of the reel and its blades is meticulously given a light coat, the axle and cutter bar follow, and he’s sure not to miss a single millimeter of any of it.

Unfortunately, it’s the only - ahem - “scythe” receiving any attention tonight. Ronald is an hour late for the date.

 


End file.
